Metal Gear Solid The Game
by ArlanKels
Summary: This is my attempt at creating the MGS video game in a Novel Format. I'm quite certain it's probably been done, but oh well. I used WORD FOR WORD transferances from the game to the book, with only a few original things here and there, plus an original a


**Chapter 1The Briefing**

The man was code named Solid Snake. The name had been acquired after proving an excellent soldier during his training years. He was placed in a room that was bare of almost all objects, save for a strange suit hanging on the one wall, a small video screen resting snugly on a wall and a pair of chairs facing each other. Snake was seated on a chair, while a man stood nearby looking at him. Snake wore no clothes, and his hair reached past his shoulders. "It's been a long time, Snake," the military man said.

"I should have known you were behind this, Colonel."

"That's no way to greet an old war buddy, Snake."

"What do you want from me?"

"I just invited you here so we could have a talk," the Colonel spoke to Snake, while slightly grinning.

"Invited?! That's what you call sending armed soldiers after me?" Snake nearly yelled at Campbell.

"Sorry if they were a little rough with you," the Colonel said, while sitting down on the chair across from Snake. "We've got a serious situation here. Only you can get us out of it."

"I'm retired from FOX-HOUND. You're not my commander anymore, and I don't have to take orders from you or anyone else."

"You will take these orders."

"Excuse me..." a voice said from off to the side, as a woman remained poised within the doorway.

"Who's this?" Snake asked the Colonel, as he turned his head to glance at the woman.

"Dr. Naomi Hunter. She's chief of FOX-HOUND's medical staff, and an expert in gene therapy."

"Are you military?" Snake asked Naomi, while starting to sit up straight.

"No, civilian. I've been sent here from ATGC. Pleasure to meet you, Snake," Naomi tells him, while producing a small needle and walking over to the veteran's side. "Don't worry, this injection won't hurt a bit."

"What's the shot for?"

"What's wrong? You don't like shots?" Naomi asked Snake, before inserting the needle and pressing the plunger.

The Colonel cleared his throat, and then opened his mouth to speak some more. "Snake, listen up. It all went down five hours ago. Heavily armed soldiers occupied Shadow Moses Island, a remote island off the coast of Alaska," he said, while motioning toward a video screen on the wall which was displaying the information as he talked about it.

"What soldiers?" Snake asked the Colonel, while staring at the screen.

"Next-Generation Special Forces led by members of Unit FOX-HOUND. They've presented Washington with a single demand and they say that if it isn't met, they'll launch a nuclear weapon."

"A nuclear weapon?"

"I'm afraid so. You see, the island is the site of a secret nuclear weapons disposal facility."

"FOX-HOUND hijacking a nuclear weapon!?"

"Now you understand how serious the situation is. You'll have two mission objectives. First you're to rescue the DARPA Chief Donald Anderson and the president of ArmsTech, Kenneth Baker. They're both being held as hostages."

"Those are some heavy duty hostages."

"Secondly, you're to investigate whether or not the terrorists have the ability to launch a nuclear strike and stop them if they do. Any questions, Snake?"

"Questions? I haven't even said whether I'd accept this mission."

"Well, you can make up your mind after you hear more about the situation."

"Tell me about the nuclear weapon disposal facility."

"The disposal facility includes a hardened underground base. Even with our most advanced intelligence gathering equipment we can't tell what's happening inside. So someone needs to penetrate, gather intelligence and report back."

"Sounds like a spy movie...What's the insertion method?"

"Well, an air insertion is impossible.

"Not with this storm going on," Snake muttered, thinking about how suicidal that would be.

"We'll approach the disposal facility by sub."

"Approach?"

"Yes, within a few miles of it. The facility is equipped with sonar detection capabilities. They'd be able to hear out engine or proppeler noise.

"And then?"

"We'll launch a one-man SDV."

"Launch?" Snake asked incredulously.

"Same as a torpedo. Only this has no propulsion device of its own. After the SDV gets as close as it can, dispose of it. From there on you'll have to swim."

"You want me to swim in sub-zero Alaskan water?" Snake asked, looking at the Colonel like he was insane.

"Don't worry," the Colonel said, while gesturing toward the suit hanging on the wall. "That suit represents the latest advances in poly-thermal technology. The nuclear weapons disposal facility covers the whole island. I'll instruct you by Codec after you reach your target."

"Anyone going with me?"

"As usual, this is a one-man infiltration mission."

"Weapons and equipment OSP?"

"Yes. This is a top-secret black op. Don't expect any official support.

"The chief of DARPA and the president of an arms manufacturing company...What business did they have at a nuclear weapons disposal facility?"

"...The truth is that the secret exercises were being conducted at the time the terrorist group attacked."

"Must be extremely important exercises if those two were directly involved. Were they testing some kind of new advanced weapon?"

"I'm not privy to that information."

"Do we know exactly where they're being held?"

"The DARPA Chief has also been injected with a mini-transmitter. As you get closer, you should be able to pick up his location on your radar."

"Do they really have the ability to launch a nuclear missile?"

"They say they do. They even gave us the serial number of the warhead they plan to use."

"Was the number confirmed?"

"I'm afraid so. At the very least, they've got their hands on a real nuclear warhead."

"Isn't ther esome kind of safety device to prevent this type of terrorism?"

"Yes, every missile and warhead in our arsenal is equipped with a PAL which uses a discrete detonation code."

"PAL?" Snake asked, looking slightly confused at the new acronym.

"Permissive Action Link. The safety control system built into all nuclear weapons systems. But even so, we can't rest easy."

"Why not?"

"Because the DARPA Chief knows the detonation code."

"But even if they have a nuclear warhead, it must have been removed from its missile," Snake said in a half-question.

"All the missiles on these disposal sites are supposed to be dismantled."

"It's not that easy to get your hands on an ICBM."

"That used to be true, but since the end of the Cold War, you can get anything if you have enough money and the right connections."

"So, what exactly are they demanding?"

"A person's remains."

"Remains?" Snake asked, slightly confused by the odd demand.

"That's right. To be more accurate, cell specimins, which contain the individual's genomic information."

"Cell specimens? Why would they want that?"

"The terrorists need them. You see, these Next-Generation Special Forces have been strengthened through gene therapy."

"Strengthened?"

"You've heard of the Human Genome Project. They've been mapping the human genome and they're nearly finished. Following up on this research, the military has been working towards identifying those genes which are rsponsible for making effective soldiers."

"There are genes that do that?"

"Yes. And using gene therapy, they're able to transplant those genes into regular soldiers."

"Gene therapy?"

Naomi, smiling at the confusion Snake was undergoing from the complexities of the genetic world, walked back over toward the two talking men. "I'll explain this part. With gene therapy, we can remove those genes which we know may lead to sickness or disease, and at the same time, splice in genes with beneficial effects, such as resistance to cancer for example. In other words, we can overcome all sorts of genetic diseases, and at the same time, add genetic characteristics as desired."

"Okay. And so, if you knew what genes were responsible for making the perfect soldier, you could implant them in the same way, right?" Snake stated, starting to catch on to what Naomi was talking about.

"Yes...we could. But it all depends on being able to isolate and identify those soldier genes. And, in order to do that, it's helpful if you can study the genomic information of one of the greatest soldiers ever."

"One of the greatest soldiers ever?"

"The man they called the greatest warrior of the 20th century..."

"You don't mean Big Boss!?"

"That's right," Naomi said, with a small nod. "We've been working feverishly to identify the genes responsible for his incredible combat skill. So far, we've discovered about sixty of the so-called soldier genes."

"So, his body was recovered after all," Snake muttered, having somehow known they would recover it.

"Yes, and his cells have remained frozen in a cryo-chamber. His genomic information is a priceless treasure to mankind."

"Priceless to the military perhaps," Snake muttered.

"His body was burned severely, but it was possible to restore his DNA profile from just a single strand of his hair."

"You people are amazing. And then, you're going to transplant those genes into soldiers?"

"We'll use a process that I discovered called gene targeting."

"The strongest soldiers become what they are by acquiring their skills through training or experience," Snake told her in response to the seemingly insane idea she was presenting.

"We now know that hereditary factors are far more crucial for creating superior soldiers. Snake, we can't give them his body. It's potentially more dangerous than all the nuclear warheads on that island put together. I hear the terrorists are calling themselves The Sons of Big Boss."

"The Sons of Big Boss," Snake said while shaking his head. "What's the time limit?"

"Twenty-four hours," the Colonel said, while glancing at Naomi. "They say they'll launch after twenty-four hours."

"Do they say what the target will be?"

"So far they haven't mentioned the target."

"When did the countdown start?"

"Five hours ago."

"Colonel, who are you speaking for?"

"Naturally, I'm representing the U.S. Government."

"So who's in the supervisory control of this operation?"

"...The President of the United States."

"Which means that the President must be metting with his top aides in the Map Room about now, huh?"

"No, at this point they're still video conferencing with each other."

"If that's a real nuclear warhead, shouldn't they issue a COG?"

"Not yet. The secretary of Defense has operational control and is fully aware of the situation. After you infiltrate, if you determine they possess nuclear launch capabilities, a COG will be issued."

"Well if they haven't relocated to the nuclear shelter under Mount Washington, I suppose there isn't that much reason to worry yet. Is the National Security Agency in on this?"

"Yes, and so is the DIA, the Defensive Intelligence Agency."

"The DIA? I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this," Snake told the Colonel, while rubbing his left arm.

"They'll be sending us some support."

"We don't need desk jockies."

"We need a nuclear weapons specialist."

Snake's face lightens up momentarily as he smiles at the Colonel. "Of course."

"A nuclear weapons specialist has already been assigned to us."

"We need backup from a specialist. I'm just an amateur when it comes to nuclear weapons."

"I know. That's why I've requested the assistance of a military analyst named Nastasha Romanenko. She'll be providing you backup by Codec."

"A female analyst?"

"She's built up an impressive record as an advisor for the Nuclear Emergency Search team. Contact her if you have any questsion. She's also an expert on hi-tech weapons."

"Where's she working from?"

"At her home in Los Angeles."

"California..." Snake mused, recalling a time when he once went there. "Seems like a million miles away...How well armed are these terrorists?"

The Colonel raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in subjects, but responded to Snake's question. "I know there was an exercise going on at the time they revolted. They're heavily armed, I'm afraid."

"What about their battle experience?"

"The six members of FOX-HOUND in charge are all hardened veterans. They're tough enough to eat nails and ask for seconds."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from FOX-HOUND."

"The others are Next-Generation Special Forces. They're not your average grunts, either."

"Tell me about these Next-Generation Special Forces."

"They started out as an anti-terrorist special-ops unit made up of former members of biochem units, technical escort units and the Nuclear Emergency Search Team. Their purpose was to respond to threats involving next-generation weapons of mass destruction, including NBC weapons.

"Until _they _were added, that is," Naomi interjected.

"Who's they?

"Most of them were from a merc agency that I think you're familiar with," the Colonel said, picking up on his previous conversation. "They were part of Big Boss's private guard. And after Big Boss went down, the military just bought out all their contracts."

"Outer Heaven..."

"After that, they were merged with our own VR Unit, Force 21, and retrained. If you ask me, these so-called Next-Generation Special Forces should be called simulated soldiers. They have no real battle experience."

"Video game players, huh?"

"Don't forget they've been strengthened with gene therapy," Naomi told Snake. "They carry genes which make them excellent soldiers. Don't get careless just because they don't have much experience."

"I thought using genetically modified soldiers was prohibited by international law."

"Yes, but those are just declarations, not actual treaties," Naomi said, while smiling at Snake.

"The interesting thing is that nearly every member of the unit conspired in this attack" the Colonel informed Snake, while glancing at Naomi.

"How could an entire unit be subverted to rebellion?"

"They're calling it a revolution. Since they all went through the same gene therapy, they probably felt closer than brothers. They see the unit as their own family."

"The Sons of Big Boss...but if they were regular army they must have been interviewed periodically by army counselors..."

"According to their files, they all got straight A's on their psychological tests. They all seemed like fine, upstanding, patriotic soldiers."

"But they all took part in the uprising?"

"No," the Colonel said firmly. "Several people didn't show up on the day of the exercise. That's why there was a re-supply of troops."

"Was there any sign recently that something might be wrong?"

"There was a report a month ago that they were acting strangely," the Colonel admitted to Snake.

"Apparently, they consulted classified information about the soldier genes and performed their own gene therapy experiments," Naomi stated.

"They can do that even without you?" Snake asked, having been slightly shocked by the fact.

"Well, our gene therapy process is almost completely automated. And besides that, they're all geniuses with IQs over one-eighty."

The Colonel stepped forward to continue briefing Snake. "Even the existence of this genome army is a national secret of the highest order. We had been hoping to investigate this thing quietly and deal with it behind closed doors."

"High Tech Special Forces Unit FOX-HOUND," Snake muttered.

"Your former unit...and one that I was a commander of. An elite group combining firepower and expertise. They're every bit as good as when I was commanding them."

"So they're still around..."

"There are six members of FOX-HOUND involved in this terrorist activity," the Colonel informed Snake, while motioning toward the same screen that he had used before to display information. As new images started to appear, with small text sliding into life beside them, the Colonel continued. "Psycho Mantis, with his powerful psychic abilities. Sniper Wolf, the beautiful and deadly sharpshooter. Decoy Octopus, master of disguise. Vulcan Raven, giant and shaman. And Revolver Ocelot, specialist in interrogation and a formidable gunfighter."

"Looks like a lovely bunch of folks. Too bad we'll be meeting under these circumstances..."

"And finally, in charge of them...FOX-HOUND's squad leader, Liquid Snake."

"Liquid Snake?"

"Yes. And you're the only person who can stand against him."

"Liquid Snake?"

"Liquid Snake. The man with the same code name as you."

"Tell me what you know."

"He fought in the Gulf War as a teenager, the youngest person in the SAS. His job was to track down and destroy mobile SCUD missile launching platforms...You were there too, I believe. Didn't you infiltrate western Iraq with a platoon of Green Berets?"

"I was just a kid myself back then."

"The details are classified, but it seems that originally he penetrated the Middle East as a sleeper for the SIS."

"He was a spy for the British Secret Intelligence Service?"

"But he never once showed his face in Century House. He was taken prisoner in Iraq and after that there was no trace of him for several years. After you retired, he was rescued and became a member of FOX-HOUND."

"I thought that by the time I left they were no longer using code names."

"I don't know his real name. That information is so highly classified that even I can't look at it. Here's a photo of him. Pretty shocking, huh? His skin tone is different, but otherwise you two are exact duplicates."

"I have a twin?" Snake asked the Colonel, with mild shock running through his body.

"I don't know the details, but it seems so," Naomi said to Snake. "That's why we really need you for this mission. You're the only one who can beat him. Now that I've met you, I know. You've got something that he doesn't. I can see it in your eyes."

"Why don't I find that thought more comforting?"

For a moment Snake just sat there, staring down at the small photograph he was given of Liquid Snake. Finally, he handed it back to the Colonel, and grew quiet for a few seconds. Both Naomi and the Colonel glanced at each other, and then stared back at Snake, waiting for him to say something.

"Colonel, I don't work for the government anymore," Snake finally said, lifting his face up so he could stare at his old comrade in the eyes. "Let me go back to twin Lakes."

"Why, Snake? Is your life in Alaska all that great?"

"There's a dog sled race this week. Next Saturday I have to be in Anchorage."

"The Iditarod? The longest sled race in the World? When did you become a dog musher?"

"Right now my fifty huskies are my only family. I've got to take care of them."

"Don't worry about your dogs."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry Snake, but this vessel is headed for the Bering Sea...there's no room for debate."

"I told you. Even if I do owe you, I don't owe anything to this army or this country!" Snake suddenly yelled at the Colonel.

"You will accept this assignment."

"Why should I be stupid enough to do that? I'm no patriot."

"Snake, there's enough dirt in your file, from your days as an agent, to keep you in the stockade until you're a very old man."

"Oh I see...blackmail."

"No, Snake. I prefer to look at it as helping you come to a decision more easily. But anyway, I know you better than that. You'd take this assignment even without the threat."

"Why do you say that?"

"You're a natural born soldier. You're not the grow old gracefully type. It's the same for all of us who've seen real action. The only place we can feel truly alive is on the battlefield. I'm a soldier too. I know those feelings of powerlessness, frustration that you feel everyday...You've tried to play the boy scout out there in Alaska. But you can't race dogs in the snow forever. Why don't you come back to us and be a soldier again."

"You think my life is some kind of a joke?"

"Snake, I just want to give you back your purpose in life."

"Colonel, you're retired. Why are you involved in this?"

"Because there aren't many people who know FOX-HOUND as well as I do."

"Is that really the only reason?"

"I've been soldiering for a long time. I don't know anything else. I guess even though I'm getting a little old, I still love to be in the field."

"Colonel, you're a lousy liar. Tell me the real reason."

"Okay, Snake. Sorry. I'll be frank. A person very dear to me is being held hostage."

"Who is it?"

"My niece, Meryl," the Colonel said, while a small look of sadness swept across his face.

"What was your niece doing here?"

"Several soldiers were reported missing the day of the revolt, and my niece was one of those called in as an emergency replacement."

"She looks like you," Snake said, after looking at the screen nearby the General which displayed an image of her.

"She's my little brother's girl. He died in the Gulf War, and since then I've been watching after her."

"A personal motive, Colonel...that's not very soldierly."

"I'm retired. I'm just an old man now...and I'm your friend."

"Since when are we friends?"

"I've thought of us as friends since the fall of Zanzibar."

"With my personality, I don't have too many friends."

"That's what I trust about you. It's what makes you human. Please, Snake! Save my nice, Meryl!"

"All right. But I have two conditions."

"Name them."

"One," Snake said, lifting up one finger. "No more secrets between us. I want complete disclosure at all times. And two, I'll only accept orders directly from you, Colonel. No cutoffs involved, okay?"

"Agreed. That's why I was called. But one thing..."

"What?"

"I'm not a Colonel anymore, just a retired old warhorse."

"I That doctor. Is she part of this operation too?"

"She was in charge of FOX-HOUND's gene therapy. She knows more about those men than anyone else."

"You mean you've seen them naked?"

"Make no mistake," Naomi said, her face going cold at the rude remark. "I'm not a nurse. I am a scientist."

"By the way," Snake spoke, turning his face slightly toward Naomi's direction. "What was that injection for?"

"It's a combination of nanomachines and an anti-freezing peptide so that your blood and other bodily fluids don't freeze, even at sub-arctic temperatures..."

"Nanomachines?"

"Not just one kind either. There are different types which will replenish the supply of adrenaline, nutrition and sugar in your bloodstream."

"Now I don't have to worry about food."

"I also put some nootropics in there."

"Say what?" Snaked asked, turning to completely look at her.

"A class of drugs which will help improve your mental functioning.

"It'll make me smarter, huh? Anything else?"

"Yes, benzedrine. It's a type of stimulant. It'll keep you alert and responsive for twelve straight hours."

"That was quite a cocktail. Anything else in there?"

"Those nanomachines will also keep your Codec's batteries charged up."

"I guess I can call you when I'm ready to go on a diet."

"You're welcome."

"I need to borrow your scissors," Snake said, while motioning toward Naomi.

"What are you going to do?"

"Don't worry. Just gonna clean myself up a little."

"Huh?"

"I don't want to be mistaken for the leader of the terrorists," Snake told Naomi, while waiting patiently for the scissors.

**Chapter 2The Insertion**

It was shortly after that Snake found himself cramped within a small vehicle, waiting to be fired from a torpedo tube, and finally enter into the Shadow Moses Island facility. He could feel the small scope, the only item given to him for this mission, digging into the side of his hip. The submersible bucked suddenly as he was fired out of the submarine's torpedo tube and toward the entrance to the facility.

Time slipped by like a crawl, and finally he noticed that the speed of the SDV was dropping. Breathing deeply, Snake hoped the SCUBA gear he was wearing would prove to work correctly, before yanking on two levers. Instantly the SDV split apart, and Snake started to swim toward the facility's entrance. Faint lights could be seen shining down from above and before him, so Snake zeroed in on their source, while starting to kick harder.

While still moving further into the facility's dock, Snake noticed a platform beneath the water, leading up to. Quietly lifting his head up out of the water, Snake watches the dock through his goggles. One guard was sweeping the area, although he avoided the right section. On both the left and right sections two towers that contained gasoline could be seen, while throughout the rest of the area massive steel crates formed huge blocks. The lights above were dim, although the combination of so many lights made up for the low-level of illumination. Nearby the back was a massive elevator, although nothing else was within viewing distance from this angle.

Within the elevator a man with long blonde hair was standing. His choice in clothing are a long trenchcoat, and a pair of brown gloves. The man's name is Liquid Snake, and at his position he remains completely unseen by Solid Snake. "Stay Alert!" Liquid barks out to the guards. "He'll be through here...I know it. I'm going to swat down a couple of bothersome flies." After saying that, and stepping back a little more onto the elevator, the mechanism to call the elevator to the surface is activated, and the metal platform ascends loudly.

Snake slipped toward the left section of the dock, and climbed up out of the water and behind the barrel. Keeping his SCUBA gear on, although spitting out the mouth-piece, he felt along the side of his neck until he reached the correct spot for communicating via Codec, and initiated a call to the Colonel. "Colonel, can you hear me?" Snake whispered quietly so as not to attract the attention of the guard.

"Loud and clear. What's the situation, Snake?"

"Looks like the elevator in the back is the only way up," Snake told the Colonel, while taking off his flippers.

"Just as I expected. You'll have to take the elevator to the surface. But make sure nobody sees you. If you need to, contact me by Codec. The frequency is 140.85. When we need to contact you, the Codec will beep. The Codec's receiver directly stimulates the small bones of your ear, so no one but you will be able to hear it."

"Got it. Okay. I'm ready to go," Snake whispered, while slinking toward the one side of the barrel facing the wall.

Taking his hand away from his neck, Snake slipped underneath a pipe that ran directly into the barrel, before sneaking over to the wall. Looking around the corner, Snake noticed the one guard he saw before walking toward the elevators direction. Rather than take his chances down that avenue, Snake stalked toward the right side of the dock, and toward a few steel crates that had yet to reach the full height of the rest of the blocks. The soft-soled boots he wore made little noise, as he stepped up onto the crates, and then climbed up onto the huge south-western block. Crouching down low, he scurried across the top, and then stopped at the edge to glance down.

Out of the whole docking area, there were four main blocks of crates. Each one was perfectly equal in size and diameter to the others. An intersection of four paths led in between the blocks, while around the blocks a main square route existed. A second guard could be seen standing in the center of the intersection, turning every so often to look down each of the paths. He held a FAMAS, or rather an assault rifle, although it was pointed toward the ground instead of at anything else.

Narrowing his eyes, Snake pushed away from the edge to think for a moment. If he ran and jumped across, he might be heard upon landing. If he just dropped down and killed the guard by snapping his neck, he would have to dispose of the corpse. The water made for a great burial place, although after a while someone might notice the floating body if it wasn't weighed down properly.

An idea for how to deal with this situation finally struck Snake. It was neither of his previous thoughts, but instead a new one which seemed insane. He could make a noise which would draw the attention of the guard, and while he investigated it Snake could sneak by. Slipping back toward the small pile of crates he had climbed up before, Snake leaned over the edge and smacked loudly against the side. The metal noise easily split the eerie silence of the massive docking area, and both of the guards turned in surprise toward where it came from.

The old veteran smiled, before pushing away from the edge and returning to his previous position near the intersection. Unsurprisingly, the two guards were nowhere to be seen, since they had headed to where the sound started. Slipping down over the side, Snake quietly landed and stalked toward the elevator.

Alarms suddenly started to sound, and a loud clanging noise filled the dock, as the elevator's platform started to slowly descend as it was carrying a new person down to the dock. Snake instantly dashed toward the north-eastern section, where a forklift rested a few feet from the wall. Crouching behind it, Snake peeked out and watched as the elevator came to stop at the dock, and the guard got off.

As the other guards started to show up to inspect the new arrival, they started to converse about a few things, before finally splitting up and heading toward the southern section of the dock. Snake smiled once again, as he pushed away from the forklift and dashed toward the elevator. Pressing a button quickly, he crouched down in the dark shadows near the back, and stared toward the dock.

Again the alarms sounded, and up Snake slowly went. Snake started to remove his SCUBA gear, and after everything was off he stood up. His hair had been cut short, and a bandanna had been wrapped around it to keep any of it from falling into his eyes, or covering his ears. Snake's outfit was the suit that had been given to him for this mission, and while he adjusted his gloves, he appeared a tad uncomfortable within it.

The coldness of the outside suddenly filled the elevator shaft, as it came to rest outside of the facility's main building. Glancing about, Snake dashed toward the nearest small block of stone which marked an abandoned guardhouse, while also keeping his form low to the ground. Once more he pressed his fingers to his neck, before speaking in a whisper. "It's Snake. I'm in front of the disposal facility."

"Excellent, Snake," the Colonel said over the Codec. "Age hasn't slowed you down one bit."

"That took a long time," Snake admitted to the Colonel, while glancing around the guardhouse and toward the facility.

"I guess you're feeling a little rusty."

"Don't worry. It's been a while but it's all coming back to me."

"How's the Sneaking Suit working out?" Naomi asked him, while the nanomachines created an image of what the camera at their location was sending via the Codec for Snake to see.

"I'm nice and dry, but it's a little hard to move."

"Bear with it. It's designed to prevent hypothermia. This is Alaska, you know."

"Take it easy, I'm grateful. If it weren't for your suit and your shot, I would've turned into a popsicle out there."

"An anti-freezing peptide, Snake. All of the Genome Soldiers in this exercise are using it."

"I see. I'm relieved to hear that. Already tested, huh?" Snake whispered, while once more glancing around the guardhouse and staring toward the Hind that was resting at the helicopter landing zone. Liquid Snake, while talking with one of his guards, stood nearby the cockpit of the vessel. "A Hind D? Colonel, what's a Russian gunship doing here?"

"I have no idea..."

"By the way, how's the diversionary operation going?"

"Two F-16s just took off from Galena and are headed your way. The terrorist's radar should have already picked them up," he said, after having glanced at an information packet recently given to him. Even as the words were being said, the Hind's propellers started up, and slowly the gunship lifted into the air.

"Looks like our little diversion got their attention," Snake whispered.

"Now's your best chance to slip in unnoticed!"

"Thanks to the VR training I did on board the Discovery, there are only eighteen hours left until their deadline."

"You've got to hurry!" the Colonel told him.

"Wow...he must be crazy to fly a Hind in this kind of weather," a new female voice said over the Codec.

"Who's that?" Snake asked, not recognizing her.

"Oh sorry, I haven't introduced you two yet. This is Mei Ling. She was assigned to us as our visual and data processing specialist. She designed the Codec you're using. Contact her if you have any questions about it," the Colonel answered.

"Nice to meet you, Snake," Mei Ling said over the Codec, while her image showed her smiling. "It's an honor to speak to a living legend like yourself."

".........."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing...I just didn't expect a world-class designer of military technology to be so cute."

"You're just flattering me..."

"No, I'm serious. Well I know I won't be bored for the next eighteen hours."

"C'mon...I can't believe I'm being hit on by the famous Solid Snake..." Mei Ling said, while she appeared to be blushing. "But I'm surprised...You're very frank for a trained killer."

"Looks like we both have a lot to learn about each other."

"Yeah. I'm looking forward to learning about the man behind the legend."

The Colonel once again took over the communication with Snake. "First I want you to infiltrate the disposal site and look for the DARPA Chief. The DARPA Chief was injected with the same GPS transmitting nanomachines as you. That will make finding him easier when you get closer, since your nanomachines are set to register his presence. Get whatever information you can from him about the terrorists."

"If he's alive that is..."

"We'll be monitoring your movements by radar...so contact us by Codec anytime you want."

"Got it. I'll call if I'm feeling lonely."

"Seriously, Snake. We're here to back you up, so call if you need some information or advice," Campbell said, while Mei Ling's image suddenly showed up a split second later.

"My frequency is 140.96," Mei Ling told Snake, before giving control back to the Colonel.

"Remember, except for your binoculars you're naked. You need to arm yourself with whatever weapons you can find."

"I remember. First I'm strip searched by Doctor Naomi here...and then all my weapons are taken away. Imagine yourself put in that position."

"Well," Naomi said as her image appeared. "If you make it back in one piece, maybe I'll let you do a strip search on me."

"I'll hold you to that, Doctor. By the way, sorry to disappoint you, but I did manage to smuggle out my smokes."

"How did you do that?"

"In my stomach," Snake admitted. "Thanks to the shot you gave me that suppressed my stomach acids."

"Cigarettes? How are those going to help you?" Mei Ling asked Snake.

"You never know."

Removing his fingers from his neck for a second, Snake pulled out his scope and looked around the guardhouse yet again. This time he studied the whole section, including the main gate which appeared to have a steady patrol of men walking by it. "There's the front door, and it's the fastest way in, but there's too much risk of being spotted by the enemy," he whispered after pressing on his neck once more. "I can't just knock on the door and ask them to let me in."

Snake slid the scope's view from left to right, and even went so far as to walk to the other side of the guardhouse and look around it with the scope. "One sentry on the left...and one on the right...They're armed with five five sixers and pineapples."

"What about the air duct near the door?" Campbell asked Snake. "There should also be a duct on the second floor."

"I can't see it from here."

"I'll let you decide the best COA. I'm counting on you, Snake," the Colonel said, before ending the transmission.

Taking his hand away from his neck, Snake stared toward the metal elevator for a moment. Breathing deeply, he pushed away from the guardhouse, and circled around toward the left side. Staying low to the ground, Snake once again peered through the scope toward the guard. From his position, Snake could tell that either the guard was asleep, or that the man merely opted to feign unconsciousness.

Snake smiled, before placing the scope back in it's holding spot, and darting toward the fence which reached across the western edge. Pulling himself over the low-hanging, closed gate, Snake fell to the ground quietly, and entered into a crouch. Nearby the upper section of the facility two small lights were shining down toward the heliport, and they were constantly sweeping in a specific pattern. Toward the right side of the outer area a guard was walking around in the cold snow, while squinting around trying to see anything in the dark conditions.

The wind slipped slowly across the area, forcing the snow to lift up off of the ground in small wisps, only to settle down a few feet further away. The air smelled like the sea, and the sound of each wave smashing against the sheer cliff pounded Snake's ears. The veteran scanned the rest of the area, noticing that to his left a metal hut rested, with what appeared to be a camera. Nearby the main door, and a few feet away from the sleeping guard, rested a small truck containing some boxes. Toward the right of the main door a stairway wound upward, heading past a camera, and leading toward the main outer walkway.

Breathing deeply, Snake darted along the side of the heliport, using the small wall surrounding it as a shield from view. He pressed his hand against the side of it, and glanced over to see where the right guard happened to be at. Smiling when he saw that the guard wasn't even looking toward his direction, Snake rushed toward the truck and climbed into the back of it. He wandered into the back section, looking at the various boxes lying about. Crouching down to look at the top of one, Snake noticed that it had SOCOM written across the upper-right section. Snake smiled, since he recognized that as a type of pistol, and so he ripped open the box and pulled one out.

Unloading the clip, and throwing it toward the corner since it was empty due to the lack of safety with shipping an armed weapon, he dug around in the box for a new clip. He found one half-way deep, and grabbed a few others incase he ran out of ammo. Slapping the brand new clip into place, he snapped the safety on, and then started to close up the box. Stepping toward the way out of the truck, Snake peeked out and looked to both the left and the right. Again the guard on the right wasn't even watching him, and so Snake slipped out, although this time he headed toward the stairwell. Pressing himself against the side of the wall that ran perpendicular to the main entrance, Snake watched the guard stalk across the snow-covered terrain.

Tempted to just shoot the guard in the back of the head, Snake remembered how easily they would notice the bleeding corpse, and so he must use caution with his new weapon. Starting to feel his age as he slipped toward the stairs, Snake glared up toward where the camera was located. Almost as if on cue it swiveled barely into view, taking an image of the heliport, before starting to swivel toward the previous direction. Crouching down, and stepping up the steps, Snake hovered beneath the camera, and watched as it started to turn in the other direction. With that, he rusheed up the last few steps, and looked around the walkway which he has arrived at.

From what he can tell, there are no major ways into the facility by this section, and the stairway is the only path down to the basic level. Shadows hang within a small recess that is located near the stairwell, and the two small houses for the lights have reinforced glass surrounding them. Unlike what Snake was expecting, however, there are no guards stalking the upper walkway, and rather the lights which keep sweeping the heliport are merely computerized.

Remaining crouched, Snake wanders across the walkway, while staring along the wall for anything which would let him into the facility. Around halfway through he discovers an air duct which is quite large enough for him to slip through. Gripping the grate resting on the duct, Snake pulls it off and sets it off to the side, before sliding into the duct head first. The metallic duct makes it difficult for Snake to remain quiet, as he tries to struggle along without making a large sum of banging. He reaches a turn, and so must struggle to try and navigate it, without becoming injured in the process. While still struggling through the duct, Snake runs across a grate which peers downward toward what appears to be a tank hanger. Noticing some movement below, he stops his crawling and just stares down at what's happening.

A metal walkway was stretched out, one which seemed to be a rudimentary second floor. Two guards were standing there, talking amongst themselves, while another guard was patrolling down nearby the tanks. "Were all the SOCOM pistols unloaded?" one of the two guards asked the other, while slinging his rifle over his shoulder, and leaning against a railing.

"Yeah. But there was a problem," the other guard said.

"What is it?"

"The security on the door was broken."

"So the door is still open? Second floor where?"

"The east side room," the SOCOM unloading guard stated.

"We'd better fix it before the Boss finds out...But that's nothing. I heard they spotted an intruder outside."

"Really!? Maybe we'll finally get to see some action..."

"Yeah, but we'd better do something about that door. Let's put in an order to have it repaired."

"I moved the DARPA Chief to the cell in the first floor basement."

"What about the vent shaft cleaning?"

"They just opened the vent covers. They're about to start spraying for rats. First floor basement ventilation shaft...Shut those covers as soon as they're done spraying. Also, keep your eye on that woman in the cell. Don't get careless now."

"Woman in the cell?" Snake muttered, while wondering if it could be Meryl. His attention was diverted back to the guards when a third ran up to the two.

"Did something happen?" the guard leaning against the railing asked the new guard.

"There's an intruder."

"Really?"

"He's already done three people."

"He's killed three people?"

"Yeah. They say he's using stealth too."

"Stealth?" Snake whispered, not remembering anything about stealth technology. "There's an intruder besides me?"

"Anyway," the newest guard said. "I want you to increase the security detail on the chief."

With that, the three guards nodded their heads, and then headed toward the stairs that led down to where the tanks were located. The last guard to leave was the one who'd been leaning against the railing, and for a moment he stared up at the ceiling. Snake breathed in deeply since he feared he'd be seen through the grate, yet no outcry occurred and the guard finally wandered after his friends. Letting the air out, Snake stared through the grate for a few seconds, thinking about what he'd just heard.

Finally, Snake decided to contact Campbell and let him know about the new intruder. Before he could reach his neck to activate the Codec, however, he was informed that there was someone calling to him. Frowning at this odd development, Snake pressed his fingers against the side of his neck, and watched as the image of a blonde man wearing sunglasses formed in his mind. "Snake, this is McDonell Miller," a masculine voice that Snake recognized said over the Codec. "It's been a long time."

"Master? What are you doing here?"

"I quit being a drill instructor, so I moved out here for some peace and quiet. I'm in retirement just like you. Once in a while I still help train the Alaskan Scouts."

"Passing on the skills to a new generation, huh?"

"Campbell told me about the situation here. I thought I might be of some use."

"There's no one I'd rather have in a foxhole than you."

"Well I know lots about survival in a harsh environment. I've lived in Alaska longer than you, so call me if you have any questions about the flora or fauna out here. My frequency is 141.80," with that Miller shut down his broadcast to Snake, and left the veteran in utter silence.

Rather than remain where he was, Snake decided to continue forth, and crawled slowly through the vent. It wasn't until twenty yards later that he arrived at an exit to the vent, a ladder leading down onto a walkway. Slipping onto it head first, he pulled himself out and executed a slight flip when his feet were through. Hanging rightside up, Snake looked around at everything. It was the tank hanger, and he was on the second floor of it. No guards were patrolling the area, and rather down below nearby the tanks two could be seen talking to each other. Over toward his left a camera was swiveling about as it constantly scanned the nearby area, while further along the walkway a massive doorway was wide open.

Smiling at his good luck, Snake let go of the rung he was holding on to, and plummeted a foot to the walkway. A slightly mild bang sounded, but the two guards continued talking to each other like they hadn't heard anything. The veteran slipped along the wall while remaining extremely low to the ground so that the guards wouldn't notice him. He watched the camera pan from side to side, and when it was facing completely away from him he darted along the walkway to the corner beneath it. Looking straight up, Snake watched it yet again, and when it moved toward the other direction he headed toward the large open door.

He stopped before it, and pressed against the wall next to a protrusion so the camera wouldn't catch him. Peeking into the big open door, he noticed that the room was empty, although a camera was mounted on the one wall. Sighing, he took a few steps in and went over toward where the camera was, trying to remain completely out of the view that it had. Sliding along the wall, he reached toward a locker in the one corner and opened it, only to uncover thermal goggles. Smiling happily at the discovery, Snake scooped them up and slipped them on. Looking around, Snake noticed the red tinge that the visor produced. A moment later he removed the goggles and stowed them away for later usage, before returning to the door and going out onto the walkway.

Snake headed toward the south, where the walkway turned toward the west, and then headed northward toward another camera and a staircase. Stalking quietly along the metal floor, Snake peered over the edge of the railing to see that the guards had ceased with talking amongst themselves, and were patrolling the area quietly. Sighing deeply, Snake thought about how he would get by them while heading toward the stairs.

Arriving nearby the stairs, and also slipping around the camera, Snake went over the railing rather than down the stairs. He landed quietly upon the floor, and looking over toward the tanks Snake noticed that the guards weren't even heading toward his direction. Good fortune seemed to be on the veteran's side, and so he dashed toward the elevator door, reached out to press the button to call it, and pressed up against the wall with the hopes he wouldn't be noticed.

A quiet ding sounded, and then the doors whooshed open. Snake stepped into the elevator, and after looking at the buttons pressed the one for the first basement floor. The doors slipped shut, and the elevator lurched slightly as it headed downward. Snake, pulling out his SOCOM, turned the safety off and pressed up against the side of the elevator.

The doors opened up, and Snake peeked out to see if anyone was standing guard. The hallway appeared to be around twenty yards in total length, and wide enough for three men to walk through at the same time. Taking a few steps out of the elevator, Snake suddenly stopped as he was informed by the nanomachines that the DARPA Chief was nearby. Remembering that the guards were talking about how the DARPA Chief was located on this floor, Snake headed down the hallway, while bypassing a door that required a keycard to open. He stopped right before the end, and looked around the corner. A ladder leading up into a vent was located at the end, while the vent itself was completely uncovered. Dashing toward the ladder, while holstering the SOCOM, Snake reached out for a rung and gripped ahold of it with his left hand. Pulling himself up into the vent, Snake grumbled about how he was starting to feel like some sort of a rat. Unlike the previous vent, this one was wider, and more intricate with it's internal pathways. Heading forward, Snake ignored the first left turn, and instead had his sights set on the second one. He reached it, and started to crawl along the vent, only to stop at a grate which was looking down into a room. Snake, staring down through the grate, noticed a woman doing situps on her bed while wearing minimal clothing.

Feeling slightly embarrassed for peeking at her like that, Snake continued onward to the next grate. Looking down into it he noticed it was the DARPA Chief, who was seated on his bed and looking disheveled. Slamming his hand down on the grate, Snake forced it to fall to the floor before the chief. "Who...who, who's that??" the chief asked, while starting to stand up.

Snake slipped out of the vent and fell to the ground. After landing he stood up straight, brushing himself off, and then looking at the DARPA Chief. "I'm here to save you," he told the chief. "You're the DARPA Chief, Donald Anderson, right?"

"You're here to save me, huh? What's your outfit?"

"I'm the pawn they sent here to save your worthless butt," Snake said, while not really caring to answer the previous question completely.

"Really? It's true...You don't look like one of them. In that case, hurry up and get me out of here."

"Slow down. Don't worry. First I want some information...about the terrorists."

"The terrorists?" Anderson said, wondering what Snake wanted to know about them.

"Do they really have the ability to launch a nuke?"

"What are you talking about?" the DARPA Chief asked, looking confused at this latest revelation.

"The terrorists are threatening the White House. They say if they don't accede to their demands, they'll launch a nuclear weapon."

"Sweet Jesus..."

"Is it possible!?" Snake demanded of Anderson, while half-lifting his hands up.

"...It's possible. launch a nuke." Anderson told him, while sitting back down onto the bed, and putting his head into his hands.

"How do they plan to launch? I thought this place was just for keeping the dismantled warheads. They shouldn't have access to a missile..."

"What I'm about to tell you is classified information. Okay? We were conducting exercises with a new type of experimental weapon. A weapon that will change the world."

"What?"

"A weapon with the ability to launch a nuclear attack from any place on the face of the earth...a nuclear equipped walking battle tank."

"Metal Gear!? ...It can't be!" Snake exclaimed, while backing up a step and staring at the DARPA Chief.

"...You knew!? Metal Gear is one of the most secret black projects! How did you know that?"

"We've had a couple of run-ins in the past. So that's the reason you were here at this disposal site?"

"Why else would I come to a God forsaken place like this. I had heard that Metal Gear project was scrapped," Snake said.

"On the contrary, it's grown into a huge joint project between ArmsTech and ourselves. We were going to use this exercise as raw data...and then proceed to mass production. If it hadn't been for the revolution...."

"Revolution...?"

"Rex has fallen into the hands of terrorists."

"Rex?"

"Metal Gear Rex. The code name for the new Metal Gear prototype. They're probably already finished arming the warhead they plan to use with Rex. These guys are pros. They're all experienced in handling and equipping weapons."

Suddenly a new voice chimed in, a guard that was far from the door and could hear that talking was happening in Anderson's cell. "Hey! Shut up in there willya!" the guard shouted to the DARPA Chief, before returning to what he was previously doing.

"But I thought that all nuclear warheads were equipped with safety measures," Snake whispered to Anderson, since he didn't want to alert the guard to his presence. "Some kind of detonation code that you have to input..."

"Oh, you mean PAL. Yes, of course, there is a PAL. It's set up so that you need to input two different passwords in order to launch the device."

"There are two passwords?"

"Yes. Baker knows one, and I know one."

"Baker? The president of ArmsTech?"

"That's right. Each of us needs to input our password or there can be no launch. But...they found out my password."

"You talked?"

"Psycho Mantis can read people's minds. You can't resist," Anderson muttered, ashamed that he had failed to protect the password.

"Psycho Mantis?"

"One of the members of FOX-HOUND. He has psychic powers. ...This is bad. It's just a matter of time before they get Baker's too. If they find out Baker's password they'll be able to launch a nuke anytime. But...there is a way to stop the launch."

"What?"

"The card keys."

"Card keys?" Snake asked him, becoming confused.

"They were designed by ArmsTech, the system developers, as an emergency override. Even without the passwords, you can just insert the card keys and engage the safety lock..."

"And if I do that?"

"Yes. You can stop the launch."

Meanwhile, in the cell next to Anderson, the woman was listening in on the conversation occurring between Anderson and Snake through the paper thin wall. "That card key...?" she whispered, remembering a card key that Baker had shown her before.

"So, where are the keys?" Snake asked Anderson, while crossing his arms across his chest.

"Baker should have them. Listen. You need three card keys. There are three different slots to put them in. You need to insert a card into each one of them."

"Okay, three card keys. Do you know where they might be keeping Baker?"

"Somewhere in the second floor basement."

"Second floor basement?"

"I heard the guard say they moved him to an area...that has a lot of electronic jamming."

"Any other clues?"

"Yes...they cemented over the entrances, but didn't have enough time to paint them. Why don't you look for the areas where the walls are a different color? Here, take this. It's my ID card." Anderson told him, while pulling out a small purple card and handing it to Snake. "It'll open any level one security door. It's called a PAN card. It works together with your body's own electrical field."

"Personal Area Network, huh?"

"It transmits data using the salts in your body as the transmission medium. As you approach the door's security devices, they'll read the data stored in the card and the doors will open automatically."

"Gotcha," Snake said, while putting the card into one of the suits pockets. "Okay, I'm gonna get you out of here."

"Wait a minute."

"What is it?"

"You...haven't heard any other way to disarm the PAL, have you? From your bosses or anyone."

"No."

"Are you sure you haven't heard anything?"

"I just said no," Snake told him, while frowning.

"So, does the White House plan to give in to the terrorist's demands?"

"That's their problem. It has nothing to do with my orders."

"But...what about the Pentagon?"

"Pentagon?"

"....Nnnnnnngggghhh!" Anderson suddenly exclaimed, while reaching for his chest and falling onto his side.

"What is it!?" Snake shouted, while reaching for the DARPA Chief and trying to help him back up into a sitting position.

"Ww...why?" Anderson managed to ask, before more pain shot through his body. "Uuuuuugggghhhh!!"

"What's that!?" Snake asked.

"Hey! What happened!" Meryl yelled through the wall, while standing up from her bed and becoming confused at the new development.

"Hmmm...dead..." Snake muttered, after lowering down and feeling for a pulse. Reaching for his neck, and concentrating on Naomi and Campbell's frequency, Snake started to call them. "Naomi, the Chief! What happened!?"

"I...I don't know. It looked like a heart attack, but..."

"A heart attack? , are you hiding something from me?"

"Absolutely not," Campbell told him, while looking insulted that Snake wouldn't trust him. "Snake, you've got to understand. This op is security level Red. You need the highest security clearance to get access to the complete file."

"You want me to believe that you're in charge of this op, but you don't have complete access to the file!?"

"I told you. The Secretary of Defense is in operational control. I'm just here as your support. Snake, we don't have time to debate. Get out of there and find President Baker!"

Snake, frowning, dropped his hand away from his neck and turned around to hit the wall once, before finally drawing his SOCOM and looking toward the door. Sighing, he realized that if he didn't find Baker soon the man might tell them the launch code, and with that code the terrorists could fire whenever they felt ready to. Making sure that the safety was off on his gun, Snake pressed up against the wall off to the left of the door, while aiming it toward the doorway.


End file.
